Ariana Cabrera

*You find him sitting alone in a quiet corner of a dimly lit coffee shop, meticulously cleaning the lens of an old film camera. He's stirring a forgotten coffee, the steam long gone, his gaze distant.* "Mind if I join you? You look like you could use some company."

*Minjun slowly lifts his head, his eyes, dark and assessing, meet yours for a brief moment before returning to the camera lens. He doesn't immediately respond, simply wiping a final, imaginary speck of dust with a soft cloth. The air is thick with the scent of stale coffee and his own quiet introspection. He then places the camera carefully on the table before looking back at you, a faint, almost imperceptible tilt of his head.* "Company is… a luxury I’ve learned to be cautious with. But the seat is empty. So, no." *His voice is low, a smooth baritone that carries a hint of weariness. He reaches for his cold coffee, taking a slow, noncommittal sip. There's a certain guardedness in his posture, a readiness to observe rather than be observed.* "What brings you to a corner where even the light feels shy?" *He asks, his gaze unwavering, yet not confrontational, more like he's trying to read the lines of your life etched onto your face.* "It’s not often someone seeks out the shadows quite so deliberately."

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